Date: Thu, 30 Nov 2000 20:16:16 -0800 (PST)
From: Kent's Friend
Subject: Kent 12
A party at Marcus' place is the sort of thing I'd dare myself to conjure up
when I wanted a deep, voluminous orgasm. It's the kind of image that could
wake a sleeping dick to its grand potential in record time. Now I was
here, having stripped in front of a dozen guys and about to service one of
them.
I was holding the banana so tightly that I was slightly crushing it.
Marcus' term "gang bang city" was intimidating given the current crowd. I
could handle Kent, in fact I was itching for it again, but Mike alone was
more than I was willing to try. Never mind Marcus, the football
barricades, and the rest of the room. The idea of bending over for Mike's
huge monster and taking a fuck from that shaft made up my mind. I was not
dropping the banana. I would go to the floor fighting to keep it, but I
was not going to drop it!
The blindfold denied any chance of cheating. Several layers of thick
fabric prevented even the slightest peek of the scene around me. Marcus
had wrapped it generously around my eyes, so that it was no use to look up
or down to get around it. Even without visual confirmation, though, I knew
everyone in the room was watching me. I could feel it.
All I had to go on was sound. The television had stopped now, leaving the
stereo to fill the room. However the selection process was being
conducted, it was completely silent. There were no clues as to who was
where, or who was moving. I thought that if they all left and were
replaced by cheerleaders, I wouldn't know until too late. Definitely don't
drop the banana, just in case!
I took a deep breath and realized that I had one more asset. Would my
suitor for the evening clue me in with cologne? Perhaps a trace of scent
from his soap or shaving cream would help me. Maybe he'd still be hot and
manly from an earlier workout. I concentrated on the background smells in
the room. There wasn't much to go on. I smelled a beer nearby, but
nothing else I'd recognize.
My knees had settled into the carpet already. I wanted a pillow for them,
so I asked for it. One appeared almost immediately. As it landed in front
of me, a pair of hands gripped my shoulders and guided me up. Kent. Ten,
no twenty-to-one these were Kent's hands. Although we were accustomed to
rough and tumble sex, I still knew his gentler touch like it was my own. I
smiled at the realization, and knew that he was smiling right back at me.
"Thank you, Kent," I said as I settled back onto the pillow. The ensuing
laughter confirmed my intuition. If I knew these guys any better, I could
have stated to map who was where in the room. Marcus gave away his
location next.
"Okay, so you can tell your boyfriend with your eyes closed and a banana up
your ass." Marcus spoke from my immediate right. "You don't think I'd
have you suck that cock, not with all the mysterious choices here tonight.
Not a chance."
"I'll help guide you, that's all," Kent said from my left and a little
behind me. Maybe he was there to make sure nothing went too far as well.
Boyfriend? That is was Marcus said. Great sex, yes. But my boyfriend?
Kent? Let the thought go. I figured I could cross Mike and Jim off the
list of possible dick too, since Marcus was forbidding familiar peckers.
That knocked him off the page too. Five of twelve were down already, and
without any penile evidence. Who would it be?
Brian. Please let it be Brian. The pitcher with the intense brown eyes
would be more than welcome. If I were to throw the guess, intentionally
picking a guy who might not be the one, I'd pick Brian. So what if I was
wrong. Brian would fuck me. The scene rolled out in my mind. "Yeah,
Brian, bring it over," I'd say. Kent would check him out, nodding his
approval at keeping me within the fraternity of ball players. The thought
of it was making me hard. If I was not so lucky tonight, maybe Kent would
like to help me throw a party for Brian.
Would I be able to tell Tony and Brad apart? Not a chance. I couldn't do
so with the lights on, and was much less likely to succeed blindfolded.
Maybe I could identify Deke. I could probably sense the bullshit, and if
he wasn't all bluster then I would be choking on him. I would need to be
damn sure it was him, though, before I dared say so. Seeing him go down on
me would be great, at least until he came back to move the score into his
favor. With Deke, the payback on making a mistake would be rough. Letting
that jerk ram his manhood up my ass and use my straining hole to massage
his meat would be hard enough to take. It would hurt like fire as well.
Having to hang on as he emptied his balls into my guts, probably counting
out his spurts with loud groans, would be pure humiliation. He'd play it
up for all it was worth as well. In some sense it was hot to think of
giving to Deke simply because he wanted it so badly. Deke would be the man
to see if I ever wanted to try total submission to another man. Not
tonight.
Aaron, the cyclist, would be a nice treat. The opposite of Deke in many
ways, I could imagine throwing the evening to him. He struck me as a
genuinely good person, someone I might like to know beyond just his nuts.
I'd learned not to assume a slender build was conclusive regarding the
package. Still, I knew that if my date was in an average way I might think
of Aaron. After becoming accustomed to Kent, an evening pleasing him
should be quite enjoyable for everyone.
What about Ryan and Doug, the delicious pair of swimmers? I wondered if
they were together. They should be. Could I get a package deal on them?
If I was right on either, they'd both blow me. If I was wrong, they'd take
turns on me. Or let's just go right to a no-limits three way. That would
be good. I would graciously win or lose to either of them.
I became aware of the trance into which these calculations had dropped me.
Still on my knees, though comfortably so thanks to Kent, I was now about
half hard. The banana in hand, I was waiting. I returned to listening,
sorting past the music for any audio clue.
"Showtime!" Marcus declared. The blindfold did not completely obscure the
camera flash. "You'll get to look through the photo album once you are in
it." I should have guessed this, of course, not that I much care.
I felt something: heat. I felt the warmth from another man right in front
of me. Instinctively, I wanted to reach out. I wanted to grasp onto the
solid jock thighs before me, stroking the muscles that give these guys the
rights to nights like this. Would I feel a smooth swimmer or cyclist? A
coarse ball player? All I felt was banana.
"Open up!" Marcus commanded. It was him, right in front of me. Before I
could react, his prick was forcing its way into my lips. I let my jaw
slacken as he fed himself into me. Hard and thick as ever, he forged ahead
until he touched the back of my throat. I let him slide in, as deep as he
pleased. The reality of having Marcus force his meat between my lips while
Kent and the other jocks watched produced an instant reaction in my crotch.
There was no use in trying to fool anyone who could see my stiff rod. I
was hard as a steel pipe, my stimulated man meat on the edge of hurting as
it strained to its fullest possible limit.
"There," Marcus said. A flash followed. "I wasn't happy with the pictures
from the bar. Liked seeing all my cum on your face and shirt, but missed
seeing you going all the way down on my cock. Now I have that too." He
pulled out.
"Marcus, you have one enormous dick!" I said. Of course he loved it.
"Yeah, just hang on to that banana," he replied. I had totally forgotten
about it, and was surprised that I was still holding it. This was going to
be harder than I thought.
"Anyone else need to claim firsts on this cocksucker?" Marcus asked his
guests. "Nobody?" How nice of him to ask, I though to myself. He pulled
himself away from me, leaving my mouth vacant and craving more.
Cocksucker. There was that word again. Hearing it time and again when I
was with guys I'd served, or more potently hearing it while I was in the
act, was making the mere mention of it stimulating. I would have begged
for more, but Kent cut me off.
"Let's get on with it and have this boy show what he does best. I want to
see him eat the cum off a jock's throbbing fuckpole!" Kent said from
behind me. He was standing over me, one hand on each shoulder. He must
have looked down at me when he said his second sentence. The way he sounded
changed ever so slightly. Given how Kent always loved to stare me down
when he talked about what I had done or would soon be doing for him, it
made sense. This tone stayed as he continued.
"You are going to swallow for tonight's lucky man, aren't you? Let his
sperm swim in your mouth for a bit, then take them down, down deep into
you. Kiss his balls while his baby juice coats your stomach, huh?" He
moved his right hand to trace the trip of the hot load. "Tell us you'll do
it. Tell us you want it."
I considered answering by dropping the banana and falling forward. Kent
would take me first, sliding his prick home. After a few gasps and
strains, I would have again adjusted myself to taking it like this,
accepting his penetration. Kent knew how to fuck, how to use his ample
manhood to steer another man into total submission. If any of the other
guys needed a lesson, they'd have it in front of them. After Kent had
satisfied himself, they'd have a chance to apply what they had seen.
Lubricated by his ejaculation and preceded by his girth, they'd have easy
access inside me. Mike would confidently wait for last, knowing that he
still had something on any of these guys, despite what I kept telling
Marcus about his supremacy
"Yes," I said. "I'll suck down any cumshot that makes it into my mouth."
"That's right," Kent replied. "He said ANY cumshot, boys! He wants yours
too. Let's see if this cum pig can really choke down all that jism."
I was stunned, and feeling a little dizzy. With a careless choice of words
and Kent's quick wit, I had just agreed to taste far more than the one
piece of man I'd expected.
Marcus spoke next. "That's not against the rules, I guess. Hey, why not?
If he guesses wrong and picks a guy who has shot a load or two already,
then he'll just have to endure his fucking until the stud can come a third
time."
"Or fourth, fifth even. The rules say he goes until his buddy is
satisfied, right? Or until the sun comes up." Kent chuckled. "Better
guess right, buddy boy."
"Ready?" Kent asked, looking away this time.
No verbal response came. Instead I felt the heat of another man, close to
me and fully exposed. The unmistakable scent of a man's groin, hot and
musky, enveloped me. It wasn't pungent, sweaty, or rank, but this aroma
was also not the just-out-of-the-shower blandness I knew. I concentrated
on the smell, drawing it deeply in and imagining the man that carried it.
Soon the oils and salts of these genitals, the proud hallmark of an active
day, would be brushing against my lips. Next, they would mix with my
saliva and fill my mouth as I cleansed him in the most intimate fashion.
Perhaps this is what is so powerful about a simple blowjob. The act of
taking a man's root and caressing it, cleansing it in your mouth, exceeds
the thrill of blood rushing into your own organ. If taking a fuck is the
ultimate in submission, giving head must be the ultimate compliment.
The tool on the man standing before me would find warm lips and an eager
tongue, ready to stimulate and yield to his advances and probing. I would
honor his manhood by setting aside mine for the time, letting his penis
rule my thoughts and actions instead of my own. As he invaded every part
of my oral cavity, mapping every feature with his most sensitive part, I
would adjust and assist him. When he had learned his way around my mouth,
the time would come to yield my throat to him as well.
Sucking comes naturally to any animal. Fighting a gag reflex as another man
rapes your throat does not. This must be learned, and sometimes relearned
for a different prick or an unfamiliar technique. I gagged most of the
time. Tonight I would battle again to hold back the gag and choke it down
for his pleasure.
My first introduction came as a light blow to my left cheek. The dick,
already hard, bounced away as Kent snickered.
"Yeah, he likes being dick whipped. Cocksuckers love it, don't they?"
Kent asked.
"Yeah, more. Do it," I answered. "Kent does it good all the time."
Jocks are competitive fuckers by nature. Whoever this was now had to outdo
his image of Kent's liberties with me. I was in for a good treatment. In
my state of lust nothing less would do. As he bounced his meat off my
face, the smell of him intensified. After half a dozen contacts, he'd rest
up with a long and slow trace around some potion of my face. During one of
these sessions he pressed his cock into my nose, finally brushing across
it. He also left a trail of precum.
"Don't shoot it yet, dude, you have hours to go!" Kent coached. "I know
it's hot throwing your meat around another guy's face and all, but pace
yourself. Try a nut wash."
With that he pulled away for a moment, only to return with one of his balls
at my lips. As he pulled his hand away, his shaft and ball bag fell
against my nose and cheek. Now the smell of balls, the smell of a young
stud's equipment, was intense and thick. I prepared to savor the first
contact between his jewels and my mouth as I slowly parted my lips. As I
closed my lips around his plump nut, I gently sucked it inwards. His
testicle moved smoothly into my mouth as I leaned my head back. The salty
taste flashed onto my tongue, gone too quickly as my spit absorbed his
flavor.
"Hey, there's a dude sucking your nut," Kent said. "You treat that huevo
like gold, buddy, just like you do for me." Kent wouldn't miss the chance
to say he'd had this before and more.
Soon I'd repeated the pleasure a second time, then briefly held both in my
mouth. I had tried that and failed with Mike. These were hefty nuts, but
not unreasonably so. With my head back nearly all the way, his erect dick
stood free. It did not need me for support in the physical sense, though I
delighted in having it filled with enough pleasure to hold itself up
proudly.
This man had one thing Kent, Mike, and I did not: seriously hairy nuts. I
hadn't realized it at first, but when both balls were stuffed into my mouth
I couldn't help but notice the great amount of hair against my lips. As he
pressed in closer, I felt his substantial thicket of pubic hair close in
around my nose. This manly feature, coupled with the intense aroma of his
crotch, stirred my passion further.
I also noticed his meat, now pressed between his body and my face.
Anchored near my mouth at its base, the warmth of his organ crossed past my
eyebrows. He was no 8-incher, but certainly quite a respectable man in
this regard. He could walk proudly through the gym showers.
A large drop of precum made its way to my forehead. It could feel the
wetness and heat of it after he pulled away. I looked forward to tasting
it in what was certain to come next. Instead I was made to wait. I rolled
the banana in my right hand, scratching its rough tip against my bare ass.
Why wasn't I getting cock now?
"Please. Let me suck it now!" I begged.
"That's right. Beg for it." It was Marcus speaking this time. "Awwww,
this is going to be good."
My buddy answered my request by pushing his cockhead against my lips. I
tried to suck it in, but he pulled back. We played this game several times
until he pushed his way past my lips. From there, I sealed my lips around
the ridge of his head. He made no effort to pull out. I rolled my tongue
on his head, feeling its roundness. Perhaps I was used to my bull-dicked
buddies, but this dick seemed to end in a half globe. It was a short head
compared to its width, and a delightful curiosity to explore.
As he eased in further, I made every attempt to visualize his shaft. It
was smooth, completely free of veins. Even the sperm chute at the base was
barely a break in the solid contour of his rod. The guy was past hard. He
was a solid bolt of flesh in my mouth. I felt the bristle of his pubes
just as he reached the back of my mouth. I was pressing my lips against
him as he began to challenge my throat. That gives him a very suckable 6
or 6 and a half.
He rested there, fully inside me, as I inhaled the smell of his groin.
Soon we settled into a gentle pattern. I ventured my tongue down to touch
his ball sack as he pulled back, retracting my tongue as he pushed in. I
could play this game all night, and from the sound of the guys in the room
they feared I might. They had started stirring, and I heard the fridge
open. There was muted conversation in the kitchen, along with some
giggling from Jim. I think a sideshow had started.
Suddenly he withdrew and pushed my forehead back. I felt the wind stirred
by his hand motions. He was going to jack onto me. I could imagine the
cameras readying for the scene of this jock laying claim to my face with
his juice. I moaned my assent and parted my lips.
A muted grunt was his only sound. The first drops of cum hit under my
chin, with more pouring out as his trail made its way up my face. This guy
was not so much a shooter as a gusher, pouring a steady and thick stream of
hot jism onto me.
I raised my face. "Yeah!" I shouted, leaving my mouth open for more. He
obliged, stabbing his meat forwards and into my waiting mouth. His cum,
hot and bitter, flooded my mouth. I held it, letting the flavor permeate
and mix with the strong smell of his fluid. There must have been a
tablespoon on my face, and I was determined to keep it there as it melted
and dripped over me. I would refuse a towel tonight, wearing his discharge
as a prize.
I stayed still for a couple of minutes as he left and assimilated into the
crowd. Kent talked to me, joking with me about how I was soaked again but
also approving of how I'd taken care of the guy Marcus selected for me.
"Almost ready," Kent said quietly. "Looks like we are down to the last
twenty meters."
Next, the blindfold came off, over the top of my head. Marcus was standing
there with a video camera, catching my surprise. He recited my name, year,
and major. I smiled into the camera and said a hello. I waved the banana.
I looked around the room to see the same group of guys. Deke made like he
was zipping his pants back up. A few broke into applause. Mike threw me a
towel, which I tossed right back. The smell and taste of cum was carrying
me, and I was not about to get down off the rush earlier than needed.
It was then that I noticed the computer, and the cables leading to the
camera.
"The photo album is online," Marcus said. "Somebody in Australia sent you
mail already, but you can't read it until you make your guess. You have 59
more minutes, dicktective."
"I've made up my mind already, guys," I said. "Bring me a beer and I'll
tell you who it was."
-end of chapter-
Okay guys, help me out here. Who was it? At this point I'm not certain,
but I do know that an hour with these liars won't help. If you write me by
Sunday, December 9 I'll count your vote (again and again, if necessary) in
helping me decide. Or you can suggest whom I should throw the rest of the
evening towards. just4funboy@yahoo.com .